


Flint

by mintywrites



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, Pre-ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 05:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2217846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintywrites/pseuds/mintywrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrench and Numbers' partnership gets off to a rocky start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flint

It was a simple assignment. They were supposed to drive to Flint, Michigan to meet Mr. Wood, Fargo’s mole in the Detroit syndicate. Wood would hand them the files he’s been pulling from Detroit’s records, and Wrench and Numbers would bring them back to Fargo. The job shouldn’t take more than half an hour tops, and then they’d be back on the road. Numbers rolled his eyes as he looked out the window at the endless highway. He was not looking forward to the thirteen hour drive back.

The two hitmen hadn’t spoken since breakfast that morning, and even then, they'd hardly said two words to each other. Well, wrote. Numbers had yet to learn any sign language (not that he was planning on learning any) and they had been using a pad of paper and a pen to communicate. Numbers hated working with partners. He was only partnered up with the taller man because he was a rookie- Fargo needed to make sure Wrench was competent enough to handle the job before they let him go out on his own. Numbers was counting down the days until he could go back to working solo. And this setup wasn’t a walk in the park for Wrench, either. He couldn’t believe Fargo was still sticking him with this bearded asshole- they’d gone on two successful hits already, and Fargo still wasn’t convinced that Wrench was ready to work by himself. They were both determined to get their partnership over with as quickly as possible, and that meant they had no time for pleasantries.

Wrench parked the car outside of the abandoned factory where they were supposed to be meeting Mr. Wood. After surveying the perimeter, the two men stepped inside. They both had guns concealed under their clothing, just in case things went sour. With a mole, there was always a chance that the guy had switched to the other team, or that he had been working for them all along. Their footsteps echoed as they entered the factory floor room.

After a few long minutes of waiting in silence, Numbers heard a car pull up. He nudged Wrench and gestured towards the door Wood was likely to enter through. Wrench nodded and straightened his posture in anticipation for their meeting.

Neither Wrench nor Numbers had met Wood before, but they had a photo of him. Tall, a bit bulky, with dark hair and a bad combover. The man in front of them was the spitting image of his photo, except a bit balder. When he reached the two hitmen, he held out a briefcase and nodded. As Numbers reached out a hand to take the briefcase, he was startled by the sound of something crashing to the floor a few hundred feet behind him. And just like that, it was all over. Mr. Wood laid dead on the floor as Numbers looked down in horror at his smoking gun.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit! I shot him! I shot our fucking mole!” Numbers’ head was spinning. He had acted on instinct- he thought the sound he had heard behind him was Detroit thugs ambushing them, that Wood was secretly working for them after all. If Numbers wasn't in shock, he'd be impressed with himself for the speed with which he pulled his gun out from under his coat. But instead he turned around to see that the sound had come from a panel of wood that had fallen down from the deteriorating ceiling. Numbers looked up at the taller man with a face Wrench had never imagined he’d see Numbers make. The man looked pitiful.

“They’re going to kill me. Fargo’s going to fucking kill me. I shot our fucking mole! Shit!”

As Numbers paced back and forth nervously, Wrench calmly ducked to the ground to pick up the briefcase laying in front of them. Sure enough, it was filled with photocopies of sensitive information on Detroit. Wrench bit his lip as he reached into his back pocket for his pad of paper and scrawled down a message for his partner.

Numbers was still shaking nervously when Wrench tapped him on the shoulder. Numbers looked up at him hesitantly before taking the pad and reading Wrench’s note.

_We should look through these files before we burn them._

Numbers furrowed his brow and wrote down his response. _Burn them? Fargo needs them._

_If we give them to Fargo, they’ll know Wood was one of us. That will contradict what we’re going to tell them- that Wood was a double-crosser and we had to shoot him._

Numbers’ eyes widened. Going against the syndicate was a cardinal sin. That kind of shit is what not only gets _you_ killed, but the people you’re close to. And Wrench wasn’t just going to lie to the syndicate in order to save Numbers, but he was proposing they purposefully destroy a file that would help Fargo immensely in order to save Numbers. 

The smaller man was still in shock as he held the pad in his hands and watched Wrench begin to drag the body out to the car.

After dumping the body in the woods nearby, the two hitmen spent the rest of the night driving. While stopped at a motel outside of Portage the next day, they looked through the folder and committed to memory any information that may be of use to them in the future. The next night, they got to a rest stop outside Tunnel City, Wisconsin and burned the stack of papers. The two of them silently vowed to each other that they would never speak of this again.

Numbers shifted in his seat as they pulled up to the syndicate office. He was ready to go in and make his statement. The shorter man looked over at Wrench, who was pulling the keys out of the ignition, and tapped him on the shoulder. Wrench tilted his head, and Numbers mimed writing on his hand. Wrench nodded and handed him the pad of paper and pen from his pocket.

_Why did you do all that for me?_

Wrench bit the inside of his lip as he read Numbers' note. He paused for a moment before writing his answer.  _Partners have to look out for each other._

Numbers bit back a smile and shifted his eyes towards Wrench as he handed the notepad back to him.  _I want to start learning sign language. That way on our next job we won't have to use this fucking pad._

Wrench’s eyes widened as he read the sentence presented in front of him. He looked over at his partner and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I really love the idea that Wrench and Numbers always put their best interests before Fargo's, and that they would go against the syndicate in a heartbeat in order to save the other guy.


End file.
